


crack my ribcage open and pull my heart right through

by w4st3d4u



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Asphyxiation, Bottom Michael, Breakup Sex, Choking, Coming of Age, Depressing, Dom!Luke, Established Relationship, I mean, Lovers, M/M, Mental Breakdown, No Fluff, Sad, Smut, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, Soulmates AU, Top Luke, at all this is so...., if thats a thing, in the worst way, of some sort, really really sad, really sad, romantic, sad sex, soulmate, sub!Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:46:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3117269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w4st3d4u/pseuds/w4st3d4u
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>no one ever tells michael or luke that if they love too hard, too quickly, their soulmate flowers die.</p><p>maybe they just weren't for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	crack my ribcage open and pull my heart right through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jynerso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jynerso/gifts).



michael is trying, he's trying so hard not to let the sob break from his throat as luke fucks into him for what would be the last time and it feels so good, it's always been good, always been _amazing_ , but michael knows luke is trying this time too, trying so hard to feel, to feel anything again.

 

it hurts michael's chest to breathe.

 

luke is holding onto his hips with an iron grip.

 

michael is in pain, physical and emotional, michael is arching his back so his chest brushes against luke's while luke keeps his eyes shut.

 

everything seems like the first time again, michael breathing hard and fast, digging his nails into luke's neck, but luke is barely even making faces or nodding michael on, or stroking michael's thighs like he always does, he always does that in any position they're in.

 

why isn't he doing it?

 

why did he stop?

 

_why did luke stop?_

 

luke finds his prostate and michael moans out hard, holding onto luke's shoulder.

 

luke's eyes still aren't open.

 

michael's eyes are stinging him, tears falling silently as he gets fucked, _why did luke stop touching his thighs?_

 

michael is confused and upset but the one thing that pushes him over is looking up and seeing luke cry too, and it's not sex-crying like michael does sometimes.

 

it's the kind of crying where he's struggling to hold himself up and his fingers burn farther into michael's waist.

 

the worst part is when michael is so close to coming and luke knows, and michael begs, "choke me luke."

 

luke knows why he wants to be choked too.

 

because his lungs are filling with dead flowers. he remembers the flowers in his mouth when he first fucked michael, and now the flowers are dying.

 

they're dying and falling into his fucking lungs and luke knows michael's flowers are falling too, he doesn't want to breathe so that the flowers can stay for as long as he needs.

 

michael needs flowers with dead petals and luke, luke's hand wraps around michael's throat and to michael luke's hand feels like a knife, a knife into his skin while he tightens around michael's neck.

 

michael can't breathe and it feels so good. he just wants to die so much and luke could kill him, god he wants luke to kill him. michael wants luke to squeeze harder, to squeeze so hard that michael's neck snaps and the bones are all misaligned. if michael dies from this, he wants luke to cut his throat open and step on every single one of those damned flowers. he wants luke to keep the grass in his hands until it turns brown and falls apart; michael's breathing is getting faster, he's so scared to die but he wants to die, he wants to forget everything and he wants luke to make his hand just painful enough on his skin to make him keep sorrowing over the fact that he'd die right now for luke, and he knows luke would kill him if he wanted to.

 

he can't breathe and tears keep trickling down the side of his face.

 

he can't breathe.

 

it feels so good to know his flowers are still there, he can feel them, but he's not stopped crying and his cheeks are turning purple now, just like he imagined the petals of those lilies would be when he felt them bloom.

 

the petals are fading into a part of him; luke hates it, luke absolutely hates michael so much for keeping the damn petals and now he's pushing deeper, harder, against michael's soft hips.

 

michael's eyes are wet and there are still tears falling from both of their eyelashes.

 

luke moves his hand away and puts it on michael's chest, making it even worse as he levels himself and michael isn't even kissing him.

 

michael is crying, little sobs shaking his shoulders while he grips the sheets, michael's head is buried into the pillow turned to the side just the smallest bit.

 

luke can't stand it, can't stand the fact that this is the some of the best sex they've had because they know it's their last time together and michael's trying so hard, so hard to make himself hate luke but he can't, and luke's trying harder, trying to make himself feel something again like he used to for michael; he wants new seeds on his tongue, new flowers in his mouth.

 

as he makes his decision michael can feel luke detaching from him, he can feel the magnetism go away and thank god he's hardly breathing because of luke's entire weight pressing on his chest because he doesn't want to breathe anymore.

 

the worst part is when luke lets go of michael's neck and michael gasps in, his voice becoming clearer again. michael can breathe and god he fucking hates this, michael is screaming luke's name over and over; he wants to forget his own and he wants luke to make flowers grow again and again and again, he wants to forget his name.

 

michael wants the pull back,  _michael wants it all back,_  michael needs it all back, and luke knows he's wrong for it, wrong for everything because if there's anyone who deserves it back, it's michael.

 

michael is holding onto luke's shoulders tighter now, fingers slipping while he tries to grasp whatever is gone now.

 

luke has officially fallen out of love and the only thing keeping him going is the fact that he still cares about michael, but then even that fades away and it quickly turns into anger, anger that he wasted his life on a boy who he never loved.

 

luke never loved michael quite like michael loved him.

 

michael loves luke, but luke loved what michael was.

 

he never loved **michael**.

 

michael is so desperate and crying harder now, just whispering " _pleasepleaseplease_ ", and luke knows it isn't because he's about to have an orgasm, it's because luke's cheeks are drying and michael can feel the dead stem of luke's lilies fall onto his stomach as luke chokes out an "i hate myself", squeezing his eyes shut and letting out the sound michael's waited for- strangled- leaving between his lips while he finishes off.

 

michael knows then that it's all over and there's nothing left, his fingers trying so hard to grow a garden onto luke's wrist as he holds his hand so hard he's afraid the bones may break.

 

luke wipes his eyes with his palm and it's all over.

 

it's all over because there are no flowers on his face this time, they've all grown to wrap around michael's neck.

 

the flowers squeeze so tight that when michael pulls his boxers back on and goes into the bathroom, he throws some of the plants up.

 

it's the forget-me-nots that he always grew fond to, the ones that stay blue and soft pouring out through michael's wrists, the ones that remind him of luke.

 

he is sitting in the bathtub tracing the leaves against his skin.

 

he lifts them to look at the old, fading dotted marks from when luke pressed the tips of their fingers together and grew vines into michael's palms and forearms; the first time michael knew what he felt was real for that stupid fucking blonde.

 

he wants to hate luke _so badly_.

 

he wanted luke to love him more than he wanted to hate him.

 

and so as he goes to tell luke, as he feels the flowers still in his mouth and throat and lungs slicing harder into his chest and the side of him, almost smothering him, it's plain to see michael still has it bad for luke.

 

it's plain to see luke never had anything real for michael this time, because michael walks out of the bathroom in his boxers to see luke making his way out through the window.

 

their eyes lock for one last time and michael says, "i loved you," his voice cracked and shredded from the thorns of a rose sprouting inside his larynx. 

 

luke's eyes water. he sees it now.

 

"i know."

 

it's so unfair to michael.

 

michael bites down on his bottom lip and looks at the floor, tears falling faster.

 

"i still love you."

 

luke is about to turn, about to leave, about to sprint across the grass of michael's front lawn, and he plans on never going back, but michael looks back up at him with _those eyes_ and rips a handful of flowers from his wrist, placing them in luke's open palm.

 

forget-me-nots.

 

michael's face is streaked with tears, his wrist dripping blood and his shoulders shaking. they're still covered in those fucking daisies.

 

luke is running away before he can even realize it, and the forget-me-nots are being crushed in his fist.

 

he throws the fucking flowers at michael's front door.


End file.
